-and the stars are black and cold-

*a sign on the door to the Ancient Runes classroom reads, in drippy multicolored paint, Clozd foar Reaprz; beneath this uncompromising legend, a dark-robed picture of Death with a scythe may or may not be some wit's commentary on the upcoming holiday*

*meanwhile, there has been no class for six days, and though some students swear their friends have seen Bob around -- notably during the Quidditch auction -- nobody who really tries can vouch for his presence in the castle since then*


*inside the classroom whose wards are known only to his TA and a very few others, a familiar rune-carved skull sits blankly on a shelf overlooking the all-too-neat rows of desks, its hollow eyes seemingly filled with a strange, impenetrable darkness that roils once in a while, as though in futile protest against an all-enveloping night.....*


[[Egad drama!! At least, in the meantime, Matt's got the care of Bob's cat. XDDDD]]